


Flying Solo

by SarahJaneS



Series: Angel Wing [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Porn, Bunker Sex, Castiel in the Bunker, Castiel/Dean Winchester Wing Kink, Dean Has A Wing Kink, Destiel Day, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, I Love You, M/M, Masturbation, Men of Letters Bunker, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Wing Kink, Wing Worship, Winged Castiel, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 03:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4548153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahJaneS/pseuds/SarahJaneS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is lonely and wants to spend time with Dean, but when the hunter is too busy working a case, Cas finds another way to occupy his time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying Solo

Castiel paused mid-flight, and then dove into the bunker Dean shared with Sam. The drop was akin to an eagle diving for prey. It did not serve any purpose but to impress which was Cas's entire intention. Dean has been distracted and busy. Absorbed with this surprising pattern of deaths that they couldn't seem to unravel, and Castiel has been left wanting; needing the hunter to notice him. It has been two weeks since Dean touched him, and Cas's desperation has drove him to strategy.  
He derived a plan to assault the bunker with a flourish and spread his wings wide before his mate until Dean had no choice but to notice him. To touch him. Cas's need for this encompassed all other thought.  
He landed hard into the sitting area of the bunker, where Dean and Sam often congregated. He spread his wings around him so that the impact pushed air in all directions; rustling pages of books and throwing papers to the ground. A lamp tipped on its side on the long wooden table and rolled to rest askew.  
Cas, bent on one knee, allowed himself a secret smile. He looked amazing and he knew it. The thing that seemed to make other humans run away from him only seemed to pull Dean closer which was precisely Cas's intention. If idle waiting was not enough to gain notice, perhaps this show of angelic power would do the trick.  
Rolling his back up to full length, he slowly rose to his feet as his hooded eyes lifted in just the right way to look intense and sexy and sultry. These words and how to use them were new to Cas, but he understood them by the way they painted over Dean's face. He yearned to see his reaction to Castiel's display. Dean could not possibly ignore him this time.  
Bringing his attention to the long writing desk, Castiel blinked in surprise. It was covered with books and papers but neither hunter was present. Thinking for a moment, realization set in and Cas strutted as confidently as he could into the kitchen. He flared his wings and allowed them to quiver just a little. A tantalizing rustle of feather to feather. Castiel frowned when he saw the kitchen was empty as well.  
Stepping away, he slipped his body into that altered plane of existence that he often placed his wings. He wanted to make a grand presentation so Dean would be forced to pay attention to him and his wandering around looking for that attention would not produce the desired effect. The easiest thing to do would be to find Dean, then plot a new strategy to impressively materialize. He set out to search the bunker.  
Cas looked in the lab, and in the library. He walked through the computer hub and cautiously examined the bathrooms. Cas checked Dean's room and then Sam's, but all of it was empty. The bunker presently housed but one occupant.  
Castiel returned to the place he started, and left his wings behind when he stepped back into existence. He plopped into one of the chairs at the table with a slump, and stared down at his hands frowning.  
Dean has become such a mystery to him. He doesn't talk to Cas for a week and acts angry at Cas for it, but then he dismisses Cas for two weeks and was utterly indifferent. That's not entirely fair, Dean always smiles when Castiel comes to visit him, and talked to him openly enough. But it seemed like they had gone back to the way things were before that night too long ago when Dean first touched Castiel's wings and Cas lost control. Lately, he was too absorbed to do anything more than humor Cas's presence with general small talk and explanations of his hunt. It was not enough to placate Cas anymore as it had been before. Castiel was lonely. His body... ached.  
Cas glanced to the side and noticed a piece of paper with Dean's sharp handwriting on it. Gently, he picked it up and held it between his fingers before his eyes.  
Cas, if you're reading this, wait for me. I'll be back soon. I miss you. Dean.  
Cas let the paper fall back to the table and examined it. Gently, he reached out and let fingertips brush against the indents of the paper. Like braille, he could close his eyes and almost make out the words by those indents against his fingers.  
I miss you.  
I miss you.  
The words should make him happy, but all it did was make him ache more. He tucked the paper into his trench coat pocket, and got to his feet. His mind was lost to his thoughts of Dean so it was no wonder his feet carried him down the hall and to the familiar bedroom. Dean's room, presently silent.  
Cas had spent a few nights here the past weeks. He would arrive after the hunter was fast asleep, and leave before he woke up. Sadly, Dean has not yet called Cas to come to him while awake, and oh how Cas wanted him too. Needed him too.  
Standing at the foot of the bed, Cas stared at the empty space where Dean usually laid. He laid always to one side, never in the middle, as though he was waiting for another person to come occupy the bed with him. Cas wanted to be that person. He wanted to occupy this bed every night if he could. He wanted Dean.  
Cas pulled off his trench coat. He folded it and placed it on the nearby easy chair before taking off his jacket too. He removed his shoes and socks, then after a pause, pulled off his tie; adding the to the pile. He turned, and stepped softly towards the bed, then crawled onto it. Cas laid in that empty space that Dean seemed to always leave unoccupied, and thought about the hunter.  
He stretched the length on his back, feeling the bed sigh beneath him, and stared up at the ceiling. His eyes followed the demon trap painted by the entranceway as his mind drifted. Cas thought about how Dean smiled at him and that this smile seemed softer and more relaxed than the smile he showed anyone else. He thought about Dean's voice when he's aroused and how hungry his eyes get when he watches Cas. He thought about Dean moaning his name as he slips in and out of him in the weighted throes of their love making. He thought about the smooth tan lines of Dean's skin.  
Without conscious thought, Castiel's hand lifted and trailed light knuckles against the coarse blanket on the bed. His hand explored the area that Dean usually laid and he absently thought of the hunter laying there. He thought about his hand exploring Dean instead.  
His hand raised, lifted, and gently rested on the soft cotton of Dean's pillow. This thin pillow was where Dean rested his head every night he was there. It was such an insignificant object but carried the weight of the world upon it. The weight of Castiel's world.  
Cas's hand twisted, fingers clawing; gripping, and suddenly he was pulling the pillow towards him. Closing his eyes, Cas brought the pillow to his face and breathed in the sweet scent that was Dean.  
_Dean._  
A lonely ache twisted at Castiel's stomach and he turned on his side to curl his knees up towards his chest. He pulled the pillow into his arms and embraced it's scent. Tears stung at his eyes and want throbbed at his groin. He hated how this situation with Dean was causing him such hurt. If he was willing to admit it at least in his most secret thoughts, the thing that truly hurt him was Dean's apparent disinterest in their sudden lack of intimacy. It was as though Dean was fine doing without it and Cas just wasn't anymore. He pulled the pillow tighter still, fighting against tears, and his hips rocked against the softness. Cas blinked his eyes open and studied the sensation. How odd...  
He shifted his hips again, purposefully this time, and reveled in the pinpricks of pleasure that swept through him. How very odd...  
Castiel rolled out of bed, releasing the pillow, and got to his feet. He stared at the bed, now rumpled from his presence, and then his eyes drifted to the open bedroom door.  
Slowly, he rounded the side of the bed, approached the door, and swung it shut with an abrupt click. His breath was suddenly faster and he could feel heat rising in his cheeks. What was he doing? He should wait for Dean. Dean told him to wait. And yet...  
Castiel's hand hesitantly moved towards that place of pleasure between his legs and his eyes slipped shut when fingers brushed against his erection. He already knew he was hard. It felt as though he has been hard for days. He did not like being a slave to the need, but Father how he needed. With his hand; his fingers, the pinpricks grew.  
Castiel opened his eyes and stared at the door as his fingers worked open the button and fly of his pants. Dean might come home. He might but... what if he did? What would he do? The idea thrilled Castiel and he let his pants drop to the floor.  
He turned and rested his back on the coolness of the doors surface while he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the elastic of his boxers over the swell of his shaft. Everything pooled on the floor and Cas kicked it aside. Completely naked, he leaned against the door and stared at the place on the bed where Dean should be. The place where Dean wasn't. His fingers traced over his ribs and down the soft slope of his stomach towards where his erection bobbed gently in anticipation.  
Castiel glanced down, and watched in fascination while his fingers trailed through tufts of his dark thatch to snake around the base of his dick. He has never touched himself like this before and wondered if it would have the same result as when Dean touched him.  
Gingerly, he trailed his fingers up the underside of his shaft to the ridge of his head and... interesting. It didn't produce that same heat he gets with Dean, but it's not unpleasant by any means. His fingertips played along the red swell of his head and his dick bobbed into his hand.  
The sensation of his touch, the subtle ripples of pleasure that crept through him, made Castiel feel a little weak in his knees. His blue eyes drifted up and he studied the vacant bed. Dean's bedroom did not have a lock on the door. If Castiel did not bar the entrance, Dean could come home. He could walk in. The idea was both unsettling and thrilling. Castiel pulled away from the door.  
He padded on the balls of his feet over to the bed and then eased his bare frame onto the coarse blankets. The feel against his skin was arousing and enticing. His breath picked up again.  
"Dean," Castiel moaned, writhing against the bed. He imagined Dean was there with him, and a sudden spike of want drove into his groin. He gasped at the sensation and his hand moved of its own volition to close his dick into a firm grip. Cas moaned again.  
He didn't see it before. How could he have possibly known? But the realization that the mere thought of Dean could heighten his arousal so drastically, was a sublime discovery. Castiel closed his eyes and pulled Dean's discarded pillow towards his nose as he jerked his wrist to draw his grip along the hard throb of his cock and oh... that felt good.  
He thought about Dean coming home to see him. Watching him work himself over, leaning casually in the doorway. What would he do? What would he say?  
_I told you to wait for me._  
"I'm sorry," Cas panted and he twisted onto his side. His hips worked into each thrust and the feeling was so intense, Castiel groaned into Dean's pillow.  
_Look how hot you are. Did you miss me too?_  
"I miss you still," Castiel breathed and his wrist worked in a steady rhythm. He was getting close. Heaven, but it felt so good.  
_Slow it down Cas. Let me watch you a little longer._ Cas could imagine Dean so clearly standing there watching him intently. Working his hand over the firm stripe in his pants.  
"Dean! Oh, Dean!" Cas breathed hot air against the pillow and rubbed his cheek against the warmth it generated. With all the strength of the heavens that he could muster, Castiel willed his hand to go slower.  
_That's it,_ he could hear Dean say, _now let me see those wings._ Castiel opened his eyes. He pulled his hand away from his dick and immediately the aching want returned. Sitting up, he looked wide-eyed at the closed door. Dean wasn't there, but his words lingered.  
Cas looked down at his dick, hard and twitching, circled by the cocoon of his crossed legs, and felt his heart racing in his chest. Touching this part of his vessel, of a body that wasn't even his own, certainly brought about intense pleasure surpassing any thought of the potential sin involved. But his wings... _his wings._ Touching his wings in this way was unheard of. It was beyond taboo. He dare not do it...but remembering the way it felt when Dean touched his wings had Castiel panting with anticipation. If he could even bring about a fraction of that sensation explosion... Cas swallowed hard.  
His hands shook a little as he reached towards the bed and pushed up to rise to his knees. His breathing kept tempo with his heart and his hand quickly returned to the shaft of his neglected dick.  
Trying not to think about how wrong it was, Castiel unfurled his wings to droop against the bed. He felt the weight of them on his back; sighing, he closed his eyes and thought of Dean. The hunter told him to wait. He was coming home, could be home any moment. He could walk into his room, weary from the hunt, toss his jacket on the chair and look up to see Castiel: naked and straddling his bed. His wings spread around him and quivering while his hand pumped at the hard length of his dick. Castiel, flushed and trembling and on the verge for Dean.  
_Holy shit, Cas. Fuck!_  
"Dean," Castiel whispered, "touch me."  
_Yeah...I can definitely do that. Where do you want me to touch you._  
"Dean!" Castiel groaned and his hand lost tempo on his length. He was so close. So close. Focusing, he flapped his wings against the bed.  
_Your wings? Do you want me to touch your wings?_ Castiel nodded and bit at his lip. He imagined Dean walking around the bed. He imagined the shift of the mattress as Dean kneeled behind him. Without thought, Castiel reached up and grabbed the tuft of feathers that cradled his left alula. The sensation was explosive and Castiel let out a long suffering moan. This was bliss. This was far beyond bliss. This shrouded anything he has known outside of Dean and the feel of Dean and the taste of Dean and the smell of Dean.  
"Dean! Dean! Dean!"  
_Fuck your close. Come on Cas, let me see you get off._ Cas pulled hard at his feather's again and he was undone. He let go of his wing as he fell forward and came against the tangle of Dean's blanket and sheets. His back arched and he let out a long luxurious groan. This was far beyond the glories of heaven and the matrix of earth. This was primal and feverish and astounding. The world exploded in white. Heat consumed him and Cas could feel himself slipping under.  
Cas's hand fell away from his cock and he rested on hands and knees; struggling to catch his breath. His chest was flushed red and his thighs shook from his release.  
Castiel twisted his hips and collapsed heavy onto his side. His vision swam but the glorious warmth that covered his body encompassed all other thought. His wings slipped off the bed, draping gently onto the floor, and Castiel shut his eyes. Had he known it could feel like this, he wouldn't have struggled so much these past two weeks. Castiel smiled at the tranquility he had been longing for and at last; finally found. Moments later, he drifted into sleep.

 

Dean didn't even notice when his jacket slipped from his fingers. He stood in the doorway to his room and...fuck!  
Cas was laying in his bed. Cas asleep and naked and obviously spent was laying in his bed with his wings splayed out behind him across the floor. Dean reached for his dick, instantly hard from the sight before him, and gave himself a firm squeeze before letting his hand fall to a fist at his side. Fuck.  
He had been avoiding this with Cas. He blamed the hunt but in truth he was fucking scared shitless over the way Cas was doing things to his heart. He has lost everything he's ever loved outside of Sam and if he admitted the words out loud, would he lose the angel too?  
The thought gripped his heart into a vice. If he lost Cas, there would be nothing left in him. Nothing.  
But look at what it cost him. He has been pushing Cas away, avoiding quiet corners, and now Castiel was taking matters into his own hands. Could Dean really blame him? And fuck if he wasn't the hottest thing Dean has even seen laying there like he was.  
Dean stepped into the room. Tossing his jacket into the chair, he approached the bed and leaned in close to Castiel. He couldn't keep avoiding this. He couldn't keep avoiding his angel. Not when he looked like a sex god sleeping in his bed. He couldn't believe he ever tried to run from this .  
"Cas..." Dean trailed a gentle finger down the angels face. "I love you, Castiel."  
Asleep and drifting in a distant dream, Castiel smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if there's anything you would like to see in the series I am more than happy to write it for you.


End file.
